


Watching Him Sleep

by StarWatcher



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-17
Updated: 2004-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24776797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarWatcher/pseuds/StarWatcher
Summary: Late-night thoughts after a difficult case.
Kudos: 1
Collections: Artifact Storage Room 3





	Watching Him Sleep

* * *

* * *

As I watch him sleep, I can’t help thinking about our last case. He was incredible, using his senses like I always knew he could. But I didn’t get to see it; I had to hear about it second-hand. I’m told he was in the groove, hitting on all eight cylinders; he found the tiniest bits of evidence with ease, and wove the pieces into the pattern that led the gang to the perp. Our friends are amazed and baffled, but willing to overlook the mystery, because when they found the perp, they rescued -- me.

He didn’t sleep for three days. Now, he needs me in his senses and... I need him. When I startle awake from the memories, it’s a comfort to see him so close. That’s how tired he is -- my waking doesn’t wake him, though I know that if I whispered his name, he’d be with me in an instant. So I watch him in the sleeping bag next to my bed, and listen to his quiet little snores, and I hold on to the certainty that kept me balanced for those terrible days. He found me. He’ll always find me. 

I love you, Jim.

* * *

As I watch him sleep, I can’t help thinking about our last case. I was afraid I’d lose him forever. Thank God the senses worked like he always said they could -- feeding me all the information I needed, no zones or spikes however hard I pushed. The rest of Major Crimes helped, providing backup for the senses as well as more mundane detective work. There weren’t too few clues, but too many; the man was masterful at planting red herrings. But we did it; unraveled the threads and followed them to the end. To Blair.

I don’t want to let him farther away than arm’s length; I can barely let him take a piss by himself. So here I am. The sleeping bag is comfortable enough, and I only have to open my eyes to see his face, battered but whole. Even before I look, I can hear him, scent him; his presence is the safety net for my very being. As I am his. I’ll never forget the look of trust in his eyes, underlying the relief that we had arrived. He knew I’d find him.

I’ll always find him. The alternative is unthinkable. 

I love you, Blair. 

* * *

**~The End~**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a challenge that was going around Live Journal. Those who wanted to play along would post the first line of several of their previously-posted stories; their friends were invited to select a line and write a drabble based on that line. One of (LJ user) Castalie’s lines jumped out at me, and Blair was unfolding his story. 
> 
> For those who haven’t tried it, a true ‘drabble’ - exactly 100 words - is very difficult to write; it takes a skilled author to tell a story and exhibit the emotional involvement in a mere 100 words. My first draft was something like 140 words, and there was nothing to cut, so I reworked it and made it a ‘double drabble’ - exactly 200 words. Polished it, posted it, and sat back with a satisfied sigh. 
> 
> An hour later, Jim was insisting on telling his side of the story. An hour after that (I was supposed to be in bed, daggone it, but he wouldn’t leave me alone) I had a matching double-drabble. 
> 
> The next morning, I realized that the pair told a complete story. Feedback from the Cascade Times list led me to change one word for the better (Thank you; I forget your name, but I remember your comment), and Arianna supplied a more appropriate title. It’s amazing how often these stories come together because of a group effort; I’m grateful to anyone who’s ever helped.


End file.
